


blood is thicker than water

by ledgestuff



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: F/M, Incest, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 07:14:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29804844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ledgestuff/pseuds/ledgestuff
Summary: Malcolm comes home for Christmas for the first time in two years. Ainsley has missed him.
Relationships: Malcolm Bright/Ainsley Whitly
Comments: 3
Kudos: 24





	blood is thicker than water

**Author's Note:**

> I genuinely have no excuse for this. Enjoy.

The house smelled exactly the way it always had when Malcolm came home. Like gingerbread and pine and Scotch tape. The scent of Mother’s Chanel perfume and bourbon wafted around the walls, too, but Malcolm hadn’t had the misfortune of running into her yet.

“Thanks for picking me up, Ains,” Malcolm said, setting his backpack down as he toed out of his shoes.

She shrugged. “Anything to have you home for Christmas,” she said quietly. 

The house was quiet - of course it was. It was eleven at night on Christmas Eve. Mother would have sent the staff home by now and she would be tucked in bed, drunk.

Malcolm slid out of his coat and hung it on the rack by the door. Ainsley watched him, her arms folded over her chest and her car keys dangling off her fingers. She was dressed in her pajamas - she’d simply thrown her jacket and boots on top to come pick Malcolm up from the train station.

It was a last minute decision to come home for Christmas, and a stupid one, at that. Between getting his Master’s in psychology and filling out hundreds of applications for Quantico, he was busy. Not to mention his day-job, and the taekwondo lessons he took on Wednesday nights. 

But he hadn’t come home for Christmas in two years. He’d stopped seeing Dad - Martin. And he knew that if he was in New York, if he had any chance to drive around, he would end up in the Claremont parking lot.

“Do you want a drink?” Ainsley asked.

Malcolm shook his head. “No, I should probably just get to bed.”

He’d caught the last train out of Ithaca and he’d only had a chance to pack a few changes of clothes and some books for the trip. He wasn’t sure he’d get much chance to study - not that he was doing a lot of that anyway.

“You look wired,” Ainsley said.

He snorted. “You’re too young to drink.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ll be twenty-one in less than a month. And besides, you really think I haven’t had a drop of booze?”

“Shouldn’t be pouring drinks, either way.”

“Come chat for a little while,” Ainsley said, beckoning him into the living room.

Malcolm followed her, stuffing his hands in his pockets. Everything was the same as he remembered, down to the placement of the Christmas tree and the portrait of Great Uncle Douglas. He sat next to Ainsley on the couch and took a deep breath.

She curled against the back of the couch, facing him, her legs tucked onto the cushions beneath her, and she rested her head in her hand. “How’s school?”

“Good,” Malcolm said, shrugging. “And how is it for you?”

“It’s fine. Boring. Mom keeps trying to make sure that I’m being perfectly social.”

“In other words, don’t turn out like your brother.”

She grinned at him.

Malcolm’s fingers fiddled together in his lap. He wasn’t sure what to do with himself. He wasn’t used to being around his family, least of all his sister, when he’d spent the last few months having sex with just about anything that moved. Guys, girls - it didn’t matter, just as long as he had someone in his bed.

“How’s Mom been?” He asked, glancing around the room.

Ainsley shrugged. “Fine. Drunk.”

He sighed quietly. Even when they were younger, when Ainsley would fall off her bike and scrape her knees, Malcolm had to be the one to kiss it better, because Mother was lying down upstairs because she was too drunk, or because she was hungover. 

Ainsley rested her hand on his thigh. “It’s not your fault.”

Malcolm glanced down at her hand. In the darkness, it looked like any other hand. He had to remind himself that this was his sister, that he was here to celebrate Christmas, not to have casual sex.

He swallowed. His body was too used to reacting to things like this and he took another deep breath, moving his thigh away from her hand.

Ainsley had loved him her entire life. He was the one who held her when she had a nightmare, who pulled her hair off her face when she was puking from a night of drinking with her dumb friends. He told her everything was going to be okay, even though he’d started sleeping in chains and taking pills by the dozen.

And he grew into an attractive man, too. As he got older and more sure of himself, he got hot, and that wasn’t weird, it was just an aesthetic judgement on a man who happened to be her brother.

It wasn’t until she was seventeen, with her boyfriend, and he held onto her hips and thrusted into her, that she realized. It was an idle thought that crossed her mind because she was bored, but she glanced up at Trevor and thought of Malcolm. 

She gasped, gripped his arms, and moaned. The thought of her brother, on top of her, fucking her like this, made her head spin. 

“You like that?” Trevor grunted. 

Ainsley came for the first time that night to the image of Malcolm. Her chest heaved as she came down and Trevor flopped down next to her, wrapping an arm around her waist.

“That was hot.”

She nodded, resting her hand on her forehead. 

(From then on, she discovered the trick to getting herself to climax was thinking of Malcolm. Imagining his lips, his stubble, between her legs got her every time. It wasn’t so bad to suck someone’s cock when she could pretend it was Malcolm’s. She could come just from that, from sucking someone’s dick while her fingers rubbed circles into her clit.

She didn’t tell anyone. It was a secret, just for herself. And she wasn’t even ashamed of it.)

Laughing quietly, Malcolm and Ainsley padded up the stairs towards bed. They were laughing over something inane, something stupid, but it was pushing midnight and they were both a little delirious from the hour. Malcolm followed Ainsley down the hall, intent on giving her a hug to say goodnight before turning in.

“Come in, I want to show you this article I wrote for  _ Spec _ ,” she said.

“It’s late,” Malcolm complained, despite the fact he followed her in.

He could still remember when her bedroom was princess-themed and pink, but she’d grown up a lot over the years. She was in her twenties now, which meant Malcolm would soon be pushing thirty. And her bedroom was full of books and crisp white sheets - grown-up things.

She handed him a newspaper clipping and Malcolm peered at it. “I can’t read this in the dark,” he mumbled, sitting down on the edge of her bed and reaching for her lamp.

“It’s okay,” Ainsley said, sitting next to him. “You could read it in the morning.”

Malcolm paused, his hand stilling on the lamp, and he glanced down at the clipping again. It was a piece about the increase in on-campus thefts this semester. When he looked up, he noted how close he was sitting to Ainsley. 

From here, he could smell her breath. Her rose-scented body wash and mint toothpaste on her breath, as well as something uniquely Ainsley. Like the scent the house had, which was generally imperceptible, because he lived there, it was now obvious because of his time spent away.

Before he could ask why she was so close, Ainsley closed the distance between them and pressed their lips together. Hers were soft, pliant, and Malcolm found himself kissing her back before he pulled away.

“Ains…”

She looked at him and a wave of hurt crashed over her face. Her eyes widened and became glassy with tears.

“Don’t cry,” he whispered, his hand coming up and cupping her jaw.

“Kiss me again.”

Shame pooled in his stomach. This was his sister. And she might have grown into a beautiful young woman, but this was his sister, the one he had promised to protect.

But she wanted this. And he wanted it, too. Was there any shame in indulging both of them?

Carefully, he pressed their lips together again, and Ainsley immediately responded, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him closer. Their lips moved together as Malcolm held onto her waist to keep her steady.

Ainsley licked into his mouth, running their tongues together, and Malcolm couldn’t help himself from moaning. Her hand trailed down the front of his shirt until it reached the hem, her fingers sliding under the fabric and touching the skin of his stomach.

Her lips pulled away from his, kissing down the stubble on his jaw to his neck, and Malcolm tipped his head back, while she ran her hand up to his chest, half of his stomach exposed.

“I missed you,” Ainsley whispered.

“We - we should stop,” Malcolm breathed, curling his hands into fists. His body was already reacting - he could feel his cock pressing against his jeans and he couldn’t fathom taking this further. 

(Except for that one time when he was in his senior year of his bachelor’s degree, when he had a gorgeous girl between his legs, his dick in her mouth. He was drunk, she was beautiful, and in the half-darkness of his dorm room, he thought for a moment that she looked like Ainsley. 

And he’d come, hard and fast, into her mouth, at the thought of Ainsley’s lips wrapped around his cock. He’d suffered the ranting of his date about how rude he was, to not give her any warning, before his thoughts wandered back to that thought.

He spent the next two nights getting himself off to the thought of Ainsley on her knees for him, his cock in her mouth, and her sucking greedily on it.)

“Don’t tell me you don’t want this,” Ainsley whispered. Her hand disappeared from his chest and palmed him through his jeans.

He bit back a moan and shut his eyes. “Ains, we shouldn’t.”

“No one else has to know. Please.”

He could never resist her when she said please. Malcolm took a deep breath and opened his eyes, pulling her closer. He pressed their foreheads together, looking into her hazel eyes, wide and dark with lust. 

“Do you want this?” He whispered.

“More than anything,” she said, staring back into his eyes.

“Tell me if you want me to stop. Anything and we’ll stop, okay?”

“Don’t treat me like a child, Malcolm.”

Ainsley climbed into his lap, pushing him back against the mattress and the soft white sheets. She kissed him again, hotter and more forceful than before.

Malcolm let his hands roam down from her waist to her hips, down to the swell of her ass. He squeezed gently and Ainsley pressed her hips down, rutting against him, and he moaned at the contact. He could feel her grinning as she kissed him, her hands trailing down his chest.

“Take off your shirt,” Malcolm murmured. 

“You, too,” Ainsley said, sitting up. She stepped off the bed, peeling her shirt over her head to reveal her black lace bra, cupping around the swell of her breasts. She pushed her plaid pajama pants down as well, showing off her peach-coloured panties.

Malcolm sat up and tore his shirt off. He started working on the button of his jeans, desperate to get them off, when Ainsley reached down and took over for him. He hitched up his hips when she pulled them down to his ankles.

Ainsley sank down to her knees in front of him, pulling him closer and licking her lips. “Is this okay?”

Malcolm nodded, carding his fingers through her hair. 

She grinned, hitching her thumbs under the elastic of his boxers and tugging them down. His cock, achingly hard, slapped against his stomach and he sighed quietly as it was released. Ainsley wrapped her hand around the base and Malcolm hissed, biting hard and watching her.

Slowly, she tightened her grip and moved her hand up towards the head of his cock. Malcolm shivered, nearly tipped his head back, but he wanted to watch every moment of it. Pre-come beaded up at the head and Ainsley leaned in, licking it away. 

“Taste so good,” she murmured, taking him into her mouth.

Malcolm fisted his hands in the sheets and watched her take his length fully into her mouth, her cheeks hollowed out. He moaned, forgetting for a minute that she was his sister and here she was, sucking his dick.

She pulled back, replacing her hand around the base of his cock and separated with a wet noise, saliva and pre-come left on her lip. “Will you fuck me?”

He could have come right then and there, just from her words, but he took a deep breath. “You’re good with it?”

“I want it,” she whispered, standing up. She grabbed his hand and placed it between her legs, on the fabric of her panties. She was wet enough that she’d soaked through her panties, hot and wet, and Malcolm curled his fingers against it, pulling her closer.

“All that for me?”

Ainsley straddled him, her knees bracketing around his thighs, and she nodded. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

Malcolm buried his face in her chest, laughing. “This is so fucked up.”

“Take off my bra.”

He’d never been good at it, but he reached around and pinched the closure and it came apart on the first try. 

Malcolm had seen Ainsley shirtless plenty of times, but never like this. It had been years since she gleefully ran around shirtless after a bath, her nanny or Mother steps behind her and shouting at her to put on a shirt, and he’d never seen her chest post-puberty. 

He wrapped his hands around her waist, kissing and licking along the soft skin of her chest. She tasted like roses and strawberries. The taste lingered in his mouth as he took her nipple into his mouth, squeezing it with his teeth, and she gasped, bucking her hips down.

Malcolm sucked gently, working his fingers down to her panties again, sliding his fingers under the waistband and down among the short, rough hairs. He slid his middle finger between the lips, warm and wet, until he found her hard clit, and grazed his finger over it. Ainsley shivered in his arms, moaning deep in her chest.

“I want you to fuck me,” she whispered, breathless.

It dawned on Malcolm that she was breathless for  _ him _ , that she was falling apart for him. He was doing this to her. 

“Get on your back,” Malcolm ordered.

Ainsley nodded, standing and stripping out of her panties. She tossed them towards her laundry basket before she laid down on the bed, her head on the pillows, and spread her legs.

Malcolm crawled up to her, trying to commit the sight of her like this, spread out for him, to memory. She was beautiful, her hair spread out and her chest heaving, her hand teasing around her clit as she watched him.

He reached for her bedside drawer but Ainsley swatted his hand away. “I want to feel you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Stop asking me if I’m sure. I’m on the pill, we’ll be fine.”

Malcolm nodded, drawing his hand up the length of her leg. She’d shaved within the last day and he wondered, for a moment, if she had planned all of this out for him. Slowly, he toyed the knuckle of his middle finger around her cunt, wet and hot.

He pressed his middle and index finger into her, watching her gasp quietly. He pressed his thumb into her clit, moving it in slow circles, and Ainsley kept her eyes on his face, their eyes locked together. 

Malcolm pulled his fingers out and ran them over his cock, spreading Ainsley’s wetness over himself. He swallowed hard at the thought of what he was about to do.

“Hey,” Ainsley said, touching his cheek. “I’m here. It’s just me.”

Malcolm met her eyes and nodded. “Ready?”

She nodded. “Yes. Please.  _ Please _ .”

He held the base of his cock and lined himself up, the head pressing against her entrance. With a careful press of his hips, he pushed into her.

Ainsley sighed, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling his head down against hers, their foreheads and noses bumping together. Malcolm supported himself with his hands on either side of her waist, his mouth hanging open as he tried to remember how to breathe. 

He hadn’t known how badly he wanted this, how much he needed it, until he was here, inside her, wet and tight around him. 

Slowly, hopeful that he could last for hours, Malcolm moved his hips, pressing further into her. He pulled back slowly and thrust back into her, savouring every sensation.

Ainsley tangled her fingers in his hair and pressed their lips together, needy and passionate as she moaned into his mouth and rocked her hips up. Malcolm licked into her mouth, groaning as he thrust harder into her.

He could hardly help himself from making filthy noises and the only thing keeping him from it was the fact he knew Mother was asleep down the hall. But somehow, that made it hotter, more forbidden, the fact that he was fucking his sister on Christmas Eve.

Ainsley pulled away first, holding his head so they stared into each other’s eyes. She shifted her hips, hitching them back and wrapping her legs around Malcolm’s waist to pull him closer to her. Malcolm groaned, thrusting harder into her, while Ainsley tipped her head back in a silent moan.

“Fuck, Malcolm,” she whispered. “Don’t stop.”

Malcolm grabbed her hips, holding her in place while he rocked into her slowly. He moved his left hand, using his thumb to stroke her clit, and he grinned when she let out a loud moan. She clamped her lips together, biting hard on her lower lip, and whimpered.

Heat built in his stomach and he knew his orgasm wasn’t far off. He pressed his forehead against Ainsley’s, despite the perspiration on both their skin, and thrust harder, deeper into her. 

The thought of coming inside his sister, filling her with his spunk, disgusted him, and he pulled out of her. He kept the same closeness between them, but he wanked himself, still covered in Ainsley’s slick.

“Yeah, come for me,” Ainsley whispered. “Come all over me.”

Malcolm groaned, stroking himself through his orgasm as he spurted over onto her stomach and chest. He opened his eyes, meeting Ainsley’s again, and she smiled at him.

“Get me off?” She asked quietly.

Panting a little, Malcolm nodded. Ainsley didn’t release her legs from around him, just loosening them enough that he could wiggle down, positioning his face between her legs. Ainsley tangled her fingers in his hair, watching him through half-lidded eyes. Malcolm glanced up at her, running the breadth of his tongue between her labia and up towards her clit. 

Ainsley gasped and pushed her hips down against him. Malcolm sucked gently, digging his fingers into the soft flesh of her ass, and listened to her whimper. He licked faster against her, tasting the sweetness of her flesh in his mouth, combined with the muskiness of her slick.

“You taste so good, Ains,” Malcolm murmured, pressing his fingers into her again.

Ainsley whined and tugged at his hair and Malcolm worked his tongue faster against her, pushing his fingers deeper and curling them towards himself.

She cried out, too loud, as she came, clenching tight around his fingers, and Malcolm licked her through it, until she whined and pushed him away, her legs falling limp beside him on the bed.

Malcolm pulled away and slid his own come-covered fingers into his mouth, humming as he tasted her again on his fingers. Ainsley laid against the sheets, panting, grinning, while Malcolm leaned down and licked his own come off her belly. 

“That was perfect,” Ainsley whispered.

Malcolm chuckled, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You’re perfect, Ains.”

She reached up, cupping his cheek and she pulled him down to press a kiss to his lips again. “Merry Christmas.”

He swallowed, pulling away and biting his lip. He’d forgotten, almost, that it was Christmas tomorrow, and he would have to face Mother, knowing what he’d done with his sister the night before.

“I should… probably get to my room,” Malcolm mumbled.

“Take a shower,” Ainsley said quietly, smiling a little.

He nodded. “Goodnight.”

“‘Night.”

He collected his clothes from the floor and took a deep breath, shutting her door behind her and sneaking down the hall to his own room on shaky knees.


End file.
